


Planted in the Wrong Garden

by hmmomg



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Childhood Trauma, During Canon, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loss, Loss of Limbs, Loss of Parent(s), Past Child Abuse, Permanent Injury, Trauma, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmmomg/pseuds/hmmomg
Summary: It's impossible to know what Anakin's life would have been like had he stayed on that Godforsaken spit of land in the vastness of space.But leaving it certainly didn't do him many favors.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56





	1. Hope Drowns Out the Other Sounds

Anakin never remembers this, head still spinning as he sets foot off the ship, but he met Palpatine the day he was brought to Coruscant. It wasn't a long meeting, nor a particularly remarkable one. He asks his name, hoists him up on his hip and explains the different buildings in the skyline when Anakin says he's never seen anything like them before. Asks about his family and "hms" pleasantly in response. Bids him goodbye with a dry hand petting through his straight blond hair.

Anakin never thinks about it again. He does think, often, about the cold gaze Dooku fixed on him, appraising his worth.

"Is this the boy? The one my padawan gave his life for?" Those words rattle around in his head, too loudly. Anakin had barely even known Qui-gon. He didn't ask for this.

He thinks even more about, only an hour later, going in front of the Jedi Council and being rejected _immediately_. The heat in the room and the growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach as a hush fell over them and the adults tried to say things in a way that he wouldn't understand is hurtful. That's what he is usually able to recall about that day, if he's asked. Not that anyone ever asks.

Δ

He spends about as much time alone as he did on Tatooine. Obi-wan was obviously not ready for a padawan, still grieving Qui-gon, still a padawan himself.

Spinning imaginative narratives is enough to keep him company. Back then, in the sand, if he were being honest, he'd wonder what it was like to have a dad. Now, after meeting so many adult men who openly didn't like having him around, he imagines himself as a father. He wasn't going to make the same mistakes. Being a kid would be fun, and they would _never_ be in danger. He promises himself that he'll always listen- if his kid had something to say, it wouldn't fall on deaf ears.

Talking to the other younglings, he realizes that none of them know anything about their families, though they are eager to hear about his. Quickly enough some adult crouches down next to him, clutching his arm, telling him he can't talk about his mother any more because the other children were becoming curious about their families, and that was a path to the dark side. That didn't make any sense to him. His mother was wonderful, the only good thing about Tatooine, about growing up. Not understanding hurts almost as much as being mad about it. His little hands ball up into fists and he has to stop himself from screaming the next time they all crowd around him, asking him of other things he remembers. Maybe it wasn't so great. After all, none of the Jedi had children of their own either, and there must be a good reason for that.


	2. A Child Must Be Taught

Making friends is harder than he thought it would be. There weren't many other kids to compete with on Tatooine, but here, he's not quite the pick of the litter. Somehow, it hurts less, sitting on the sidelines and watching. From over here, fear doesn't well up in his stomach when they ask and he doesn't know the rules. Why won't they just teach him the rules, though? He can play along. He _wants_ to fit in.

Feelings of worthlessness settle in deeper, of being so different and so poor and wild that his very presence here is up for debate. When people talk about him, the way people talk about children as if they don't have ears, they use the word _slave_ with such acidic disdain on their tongues- like it was his fault, like it clings to his skin still and sours his presence. He thought things would be different, here, but it's becoming obvious that it doesn't matter where he is. The people always act the same.

Δ

Being Obi-wan's padawan isn't perfect. He hasn't had a chance to settle down since he got to Coruscant, and, on top of that, Obi-wan has never had a padawan before. To sum it up quickly, his paternal instincts are slim to none. He has no idea what he's doing, but he's so desperate to honor the sacrifice Qui-gon made that he's going full steam ahead with it.

Anakin isn't necessarily easy to deal with, either. A little wiser than he should be, but not extremely smart; incredibly skilled but lacking certain fundamentals; eager and curious, but also secretive and untrusting. Unable to deal with practically any of Anakin's moods, meltdowns aren't infrequent.

It's harder to answer than it should be, when Anakin questions every rule every Jedi has lived by forever, and he understands a little better why younglings must start their training even younger.


	3. Sowing Seeds

Visits from dignitaries die out, powerful individuals interested in his potential, bored once they realize he won't perform on command like a circus animal. Eeth Koth makes an attempt at first, and of course Obi-wan teaches him almost every day. Unsure how to feel about it, the person actually trying to befriend him is Palpatine.

Exploring Coruscant is nice, and he can talk about his mom as much as he wants, Palpatine doesn't care. Sometimes he gets sweets or a little trinket. No one has ever bought him gifts before. He doesn't understand much of what the old man is talking about, but he's discovering that he doesn't understand much of what anyone is talking about, here. Feeling like he should like him more, he tries to explain to Obi-wan exactly what he finds so creepy about the Chancellor, but it gets brushed off.

Just get used to it, he says. Anakin tries.

Δ

He misses podracing so much. Learning about the force, and Jedi, and lightsabers, it's all really cool, but the people on Tatooine were so much nicer to him. He hated being a slave, but if he had just stayed, maybe he could have bought his mother's freedom as well. He misses her and his droids and his friends. Having no idea the magnitude of the decision he was making when he came here was sickening to him, heat rising up on his cheeks and the back of his neck and his eyes, trying not to cry as he's punished for breaking rules he doesn't understand and doesn't agree with. He should be allowed to talk about his mom and Tatooine, and he should be allowed to be a dad someday, and he shouldn't have to be around Palpatine only because that's what the Chancellor wants.

He feels just as much a slave as before he left and he hates it.


	4. Watering Dead Soil

Padme is even more beautiful than he remembers. She had hardly changed at all, it seems, and her laugh was still as bright as a star. It was easy to want to be around her, even if she didn't really feel the same. No one wanted to be around him, so he'd become more comfortable with their discomfort. By now, it makes him laugh. If only a little, inside his head.

Having thought about her a lot, that angel that lighted on the desert sands, he wasn't sure what he expected when he saw her again. He kind of _didn't_ expect to see her again. Maybe he could make this into something positive. Hearing her voice, he feels the sun baking on his skin, smells his mother's cooking- he never thought he'd miss Tatooine so much.

Δ

It had been years. Years and years of feeling alone, of missing the hot adobe walls that felt like home. He could hear his mother's voice as clear as a bell in his mind, but had never considered going there. It had never seemed like an option.

Maybe he would have been better off leaving that chapter of his life closed, but he thought he could- save her. Change the dream he had seen. Going back, seeing it all like bones. Seeing her, holding her as she died. As though she had continued on long enough for this last, tired goodnight. Continued on to see her prodigal son in all his glory, no longer a slave but a knight, ready to decide his own destiny. Thankful for her that she does not see the path that anger forces her child down, even in those very next moments.

Something deep inside of him crumbles, like a schism through an iceberg. Crashing loud in his ears, for once, he doesn't hear his own thoughts. Heart pounding and shaking, the clarity washes over him in waves as he cuts through those that have done him wrong.

Scum.

Slave drivers.

Murderers.

This is the justice that they have made for themselves, Anakin didn't decide that for them. But he is satisfied when they are still, heart at peace, even as his thoughts become more tangled, able to slice more deeply.

Leaving more troubled than he arrived, he feels a thorn in his side that will only dig deeper with time.


	5. It's Hot Here in Hell

"Anakin, my god...are you sure you've never had sex before?" Eyes closed lightly, it slips out like a happy sigh.

"Haha. What?"

"It was a joke- that was amazing."

"No, the other part. I thought-" there's a long pause. "Nothing. It's stupid."

Already past half asleep, she offers another small laugh and nothing more.

To put it simply, sex education is lacking at the Jedi academy. Between the variety of species they'd have to account for and the desire to discourage all of them from it in general, they were stuck with an abstinence only style of teaching. But, obviously, now. Now he understands a little better, the mistake he's made.

Wanting to be with Padme for years, even as a child, not realizing that this is what love was for adults, not being told, it all feels meaningless to him. At best. At worst, he feels disgusted with himself.

The walls are closing in and growing up has done nothing but take the sparkle off the galaxy he once hoped so much for.

Δ

The robotic arm hurts. Installing it hurt, doing maintenance can feel like holding onto a live wire, and removing it for replacement? Don't even ask. Just thinking about it makes him itch. Laying in bed, stiff as a board from the pain, he goes somewhere else in his head. Somewhere nothing like here, and the people are nothing like here, and it's all different.

Maybe not like Tatooine, either.

Maybe not like anywhere he's ever been.


	6. Pawns Are Played With

"Anakin..."

He always leaves the longest pause after saying his name, long enough for his stomach to turn.

"I know you've not been honest with me. There's something..."

Another long silence. Minutes could last eons in his presence.

"You're in love." He clicks his teeth and turns away, folding his hands. "My, my."

"You're growing up, aren't you?"

Δ

Thinking about sand, about rough, hot sand, and the sky and the suns and heat and nothingness, for miles. In his mind, he's there. Burning, sweating, he hates it. But it's better than here. Oh god is it better than here.

His skin crawls and he retches, hot and clammy, as he stumbles down the hall, away. Away. Anywhere but here. It all makes sense now. Horrible, painful sense. Ignorance hurt so much less, but he can't even wish for it.

Though he knows the way from Palpatine's quarters better than the back of his hand, it isn't an easy journey without his wits. Sitting in front of a window he hasn't looked out in years, at all the vastness of Coruscant, he feels truly alone.


	7. The Crosses We Bear

Ahsoka looks into his eyes and his heart is light. His _padawan_. Feeling hope so strongly, he says in his head, I'm not going to make the same mistakes. Being a Jedi will be fun, and Ahsoka will _never_ be in danger she shouldn't be. He promises himself that he'll always listen- if she has something to say, it won't fall on deaf ears.

Turning back to the Jedi Council, he begrudgingly accepts his new responsibility, but it's just a good poker face. In his heart, it's a small step towards healing.

Their proximity in age means she is well aware of him, though they were never actually introduced. Circling that reputation, the concern eases somewhat from her shoulders when the first thing he does, is ask her what _she_ wants to do.

Δ

Technology has gotten better but pain management has not. Gritting his teeth and just trying his best not to look, he counts down from a million until the procedure is over. The new arm moves more quickly, responds more accurately, is paid for completely by war money, and he doesn't relish having it.

Padme isn't in love with it either, doesn't say anything aloud, but looks at it with a curl to her lip. Cringes a little under its touch- not that she doesn't ask to be touched anyway. Unsure why, he tries not to develop a complex. He's never been vain, but he also isn't stupid. Padme isn't with him for his conversation skills. All theories of angels and sacredness have been thrown out the window- she is an adult, human woman, and if he can't keep up, he will be left behind.

Trying not to think about the pressure on him, about being plucked from the desert and brought to this place where he can never be himself or he'll be rejected immediately, where every person he cares about doesn't feel half as strongly as he does, he runs through the calibration test again, and again, and again.


	8. Seen and Not Heard

"But you _love_ Palpatine! It's just a dinner. You can manage." Head full of static, he doesn't know how to respond to such a deeply inaccurate statement.

"Why won't you just take my word for it? I-"

"Anakin-" Her tone is stern, "you'll never grow up if I don't make you! Now go get ready."

"We're only 5 years apart."

"Darling, your response betrays you." Laughing lightly, she kisses his cheek before going to her own quarters to prepare for the night out. Trying to focus on her actions instead of her words, he leans into her presence even as she walks away.

He hates this tunic, and the lights are too bright, and he feels sick every time Palpatine turns in his direction. Fury beads up on his forehead like sweat. They're not sitting close but he still makes the effort to touch his hand or his shoulder and Anakin makes the effort not to shrivel up under his palm, though he wonders why he tries the whole time.

Δ

"Hey- stop!" There's something of a stunned silence and Anakin clears his throat, moving slightly forward, slightly farther away.

"Just- back up." Literally no one asks him what's wrong. Face boiling under his skin, he crosses his arms and tries to focus. Stomach churning like a hot engine, he can't wait for this meeting to be over and for the mission to start.

"Hey! Skyguy!" His shoulders tense up and he grits his teeth. "What _was_ that back there?"

"Nothing, Ahsoka."

"Oh, yeah. I totally believe that."

"Just drop it."

"Anakin-" she stops herself from grabbing his arm, "Anakin, what happened to you?"

Finally he stops walking. Her voice quiets down. She sees it all. How could she not. Even when Anakin asked her not to follow, she did. Even when he asked her to drop it, she wouldn't. There wasn't a secret Anakin had that she wasn't close to puzzling out- but it was all just that, guesswork. As hard as she fought to dig it out of him, he always pushed back with equal strength.

"When we were in the Academy- you- had the same problem. I thought it was something- that you'd grown out of- that maybe it had stopped- but-" Yet another thing he doesn't quite remember about growing up on Coruscant, and he knows he's better off that way. It just feels like it's too much.

"I guess it hasn't?" The words hang heavy in the air. Barely a question but still begging for an answer.

"Ahsoka- please-" Closing his eyes, he sees the dark, empty room that represents the inside of his mind. He tells himself he's thinking of the next words but really, it is a retreat. For a moment she thinks he will actually say the next part, but it never comes. Walking past him, she doesn't pat his shoulder.

"Just- stay by me next time?" The spring in his gut coils tighter, even as she walks away and the danger twitching in his throat recedes.

"C'mon, we gotta get this thing started!"


	9. How to Make a Lost Cause

Anakin doesn't have an anger issue.

Or, rather, he _wouldn't_ if people just didn't act like _that_. Blood presses hot at the surface of his skin when someone opens their mouth, rushes in his ears when they stand too close. He avoids thinking about everything that has happened to him, the way people speak to him, the life he lives- dwelling on it can be explosive. There isn't a way to let the pressure off. Anger isn't the Jedi way. So he pushes it down, and the deeper it goes the more it surrounds him, tightening the noose. Walking his thoughts like a razor wire, gazing in the wrong direction makes his skin prick with needles, and he struggles not to bleed on everyone he knows.

Δ

Thinking about what happened on planet Mortis is overwhelming for Anakin. In the dark, one night, he asks Ahsoka about it, about turning to the dark side, about dying. Just a few feet below him in their coffin-like bunks, her voice is quiet but doesn't waver. She confesses that she remembers very little. Only that, in death, she no longer felt any pain, in her mind or her body. She no longer felt the tug between dark and light, only oneness with the force. Coming back was exhausting, and hurt beyond measure, like being born again. Everything is harsher the second time around. Sharper, more stark, like she had no callouses at all.

He asks what she thinks of the Jedi Order. Of the Dark Side. It takes her a long time to answer. Eventually, she confesses that the older she gets, the more she _sees_ things, the less she believes in the Jedi way. Simply being able to agree is enough and his shoulders relax against his Republic issue mattress as some of the tension eases from his mind. He isn't alone.


	10. Cracking Under Pressure

Padme is beautiful, and kind. She's beyond smart, miles smarter than he'll ever be, and he can't help but smile when he sees her. So many good memories are tied up in her presence.

But sometimes she yells at him. Never, has someone he loved raised their voice like that at him before. She gets mad at him for not understanding politics, not understanding why they both have to continue fulfilling their roles in the system. For getting bored during meetings and dinners. For getting hurt or not living up to her expectations. She's under a ton of pressure, he understands, he does, he says he's sorry, she says she's sorry too, but- it's not something that can be taken back so easily. Touching his heart so gently, she promises him everything when the war is over. Though he still doesn't understand why that can't be right now, he has given up asking.

Δ

Fighting as hard as he possibly could ended up meaning nothing. More and more he feels like his every effort is worthless. The Jedi Council never listens to him. Watching Ahsoka take off, feeling it again. The sensation of being left behind. Of wanting to follow.

What was all this hurting for?

Why didn't he just leave the Jedi Order too? It seemed so easy for her to walk away. That, at least, he can take pride in- teaching her to value herself, because no one else ever will. She had been brave, and certain, and- he's quiet inside, confident that he'd done right by her. That she'd be okay.


	11. Desecrated Ground

Hot sour lighting strikes in his stomach thinking of Clovis. Having sacrificed everything for Padme...he just wishes she would do the same. The two of them have so much more in common and it's just- it's too much, seeing them together. He knows no one else, and he will know no one else should Padme ever leave. Seeing that Padme isn't the same, that she can look into Clovis's eyes and see everything she has ever seen before in him now- it gets the better of him. Boiling over, the anger gets the better of him.

It feels amazing to get so close to killing him. He should have done it.

Δ

"Losing focus again, Anakin?"

It takes him a moment to realize he's being spoken to.

"No, Master Obi-wan. Of course not." Obi-wan suppresses a laugh at his expense and doesn't press the issue. It is harder for them to be around each other now, than before Ahsoka left- Obi-wan wrongly attributes the tense turmoil he senses in Anakin to her dramatic absence. Thinking back, he does wonder if taking Anakin from the sands of Tatooine was really the right choice. Always thinking back. It had happened so fast, it was hard not to. Qui-gon's death, Anakin's training, the war- it would be shocking if it all worked out in the end, he thinks dryly, watching Anakin get lost in his thoughts again.


	12. The Downfall of Innocence

There's no way he's awake. Only in dreams would Padme's pregnancy elicit a positive reaction, a glowing burst of exaltation booming in his chest. His waking life doesn't allow for things like that. For- happiness. For fulfilled dreams. For validation of his love.

His next reaction is more realistic- how? Is there something they could have done to prevent this? How did any of this work? How was any of this going to work? Alarms go off in his head all the time. Everyone knows, it's impossible that they don't. He doesn't even want to be in the same room as Padme because of the way people look at them together. Beading up with sweat, he can barely stand being right next to her right now. His whole world is topsy turvy. Every hope he's ever dreamed for, everything that should feel good is twisted into something horrible, and, well, every time Yoda's face creases with disappointment, he almost feels relief.

Δ

Thinking about Ahsoka- Snips- his padawan, his _friend_ , he feels absolutely hollow. What could he have done differently? What could he have done to protect her from the Jedi Council? Aching, he just wishes that he could talk to her- that he knew where she even _was_. He can't talk to Obi-wan about this, not Padme, and- that's it. That's his- family.

They would never understand the wrong he's done. Having broken so many rules, done evil that couldn't be explained with good reason, he feels sick. Darkness wells up inside and he hates himself even more.


	13. Born Property

"Who was that?"

"Oh. Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" Anakin grits his teeth, choking back a disgusted, desperate NO because he's not, he's not, he's not jealous. He just- who IS she?

"I sense it in you, boy. Come closer. It's been so long."

Clenching his hands into tight fists, he does as instructed. He tucks the image of her- dark brown hair, pale skin, heavy with child- into the back of his mind, to obsess over later. Later. Just like so many other things.

Δ

"Padme-"

Hearing her speak again, he realizes he can't suss out the words. He's so tired. He hasn't had dreams like this since- his mother. Why won't she listen to him? She was _there_. Why won't she listen?

"Padme- please, be patient with me."

"I've been beyond patient with you, Anakin! We're having a _child_ together! Everything is about to change!"

"Padme, I just need you to listen-"

"Anakin, they are only dreams, please, I need _you_ to listen!"

He tries, he tries so hard.


	14. Chapter 14

Palpatine is not his favorite person. About as far from it as possible. But the only people farther, right now, are the members of the Jedi Council. Throughout his life, Obi-wan had half-heartedly defended him, for Qui-gon's honor, but the rest of them would have loved to throw him to the dogs, even when he was a very young child. And now, they want him to spy on Palpatine? To tell the truth about Palpatine?

Sweating, he wonders what they already know.

When he tries to do a little spying, he gets more than he bargained for. No one ever speaks of the Sith, and his interest is immediately piqued. As much as it hurts him, deep down to his core, Palpatine is the only person who has never forbidden him a topic of conversation. Never chastised him or ignored him. When he says that he is worried about Padme, Palpatine is ready with a solution, and the burden is eased off his mind a little.

He hates himself for that.

Δ

Conflict cuts him so deeply. Despising the path he feels he must walk, he desperately wishes someone else would ever listen to him.

What is so wrong with him?

What did Qui-gon see in him that no one else can- would it have been different had he lived?

IF he had lived.

Life. And death. That's all it's ever really been about. All he wants, desperately, is for Padme to live, for their child to live.

The Jedi Council had never listened to him before. Honestly, never. But knowing already that they want to target Palpatine, that they are looking for his wrongdoings, he feels a little more confident that they will be attentive. That turning Palpatine in will cover up his own numerous wrongdoings.

Sweating, guts sour, he pushes the words out, hands clenched to stop them from shaking. He listens, Mace listens to him, and he thought he'd feel relieved, but it only gets worse. Watching them stalk down the corridors to Palpatine's quarters, such a familiar journey, one he's made thousands of times alone, his anxiety mounts. He buzzes out of his skin, feeling something like a cold worm writhing in his guts, unsure he will be able to go through with this. All his life, he had been ordered to his knees. Told to follow, that his worth lies in accepting orders well. Going against someone he perceives so strongly, so deeply to be the one who holds the reigns, takes every ounce of active willpower and he's slowly slipping, slowly losing the hold he has on his own destiny.

He falls, and loses his grip.


End file.
